The market maker (31 page)

"Don't worry about me, Kate. I'll be fine."

"Well, there's always a place for you here, if you need it. Don't worry about Jamie."

"Thanks," I said. "I'll remember that."

As I put the phone down I felt a tug of guilt. How would Jamie and Kate react when they found out about the takeover, as they surely would? Well, Kate would probably approve. She thought as little of Dekker as I did. She was as angry as I was over the way they had treated me.

And Jamie?

It would be a shock. But it shouldn't be too bad for him. One of the main attractions of Dekker to Bloom-field Weiss was its employees, and Jamie was an important one of those. And continued employment with them would be preferable to Dekker going bust.

So that was how I persuaded myself that I wasn't letting down my friends.

And I would be giving Ricardo exactly what he deserved.

Stahl himself called me back at about eight the next morning.

''We're gonna go for it," he growled. "Be at our office in Broadgate at ten forty-five. We're gonna see Lord Kerton."

I waited for him in the Bloomfield Weiss lobby. He was flanked by two besuited bankers. Although they were both of average height, they towered above him. In fact, as he swept out of the office with one each on either side and slightly behind him, he looked like a Mafia boss with two heavies in tow.

And these guys were heavies. Bloomfield Weiss had a reputation for aggression that applied to its corporate finance dealings as well as everything else. These two had personally been involved in the dismemberment of dozens of corporations throughout the world. Technically the activity was known as mergers and acquisitions, or "M & A." But some of the jargon gave a better idea of the flavor of what actually happened: "downsizing," "giving value back to shareholders," "shedding noncore activities," "squeezing cash out of the business." And then there was another set of phrases that dealt with the other side of the coin: "golden parachute," "executive incentive scheme," and especially tiiat little three-letter word "fee."

Stahl introduced me as "the kid I was telling you about." The bankers' names were Schwartz and Godfrey. We hurried across the paved squares in the center of Broadgate to a cab that was waiting for us on one of the side i^treets that adjoined the complex. Dekker

Ward's office was in a small street just behind the Bank j

of England. It took us fifteen minutes to crawl there j

through the City traffic. It would have taken five nun '

utes to walk. j

Of course I had never been to Dekker 's City office be \

fore. It was where the traditional, non-Ricardo business i

of the firm was carried out: trading in British and ex j

colonial stocks, some private client business, a small j

fund-management group, and corporate finance. At j

least that's what I thought went on there. High up in j the air three miles away in Canary Wharf, Ricardo's

team neither knew nor cared much what anyone else at i

Dekker did. ;

The facade was an elegant Georgian four-story build j ing, painted light gray. We walked into what could have been the entrance hall of a country house. The \ man at the reception desk was more like a butler than a \ security guard. After having our credentials respectfully taken, we were ushered into an elevator, and led i into a boardroom one floor up. There an assortment of ■ Victorian financiers stared down at a long polished table. I wandered over to look at the names. There was a j Dekker, and a Ward, but most of them were Kertons. j

Stahl, too, looked closely around the room. I could

tell he liked it. He liked it a lot. ''Hey, Dwight, do you I

think we could fix up the thirty-eighth floor like this? " |

I glanced at the two bankers and only just managed

to suppress a smile. j

"I dunno, Sidney," said the one called Dwight. |

"We'd need some old photos of your folks. I'm sure we | could find an artist to add the necessary touches."

Stahl laughed. "I'd get them to put up my old j

grandma. You know she was a matchmaker? One of ;

those babushkas who arranged marriages? Boy, did she j

know how to create a deal out of nowhere." '

I

Just then the door opened, and Lord Kerton strode in. With his tall frame, longish fair hair, and his elegant suit, he was all poise and self-assurance. "Morning," he said, holding out his hand, "Andrew Kerton."

Stahl shook it. "Sidney Stahl. This is Dwight Godfrey and Jerry Schwartz. And Nick Elliot I believe you know?"

"Actually, I don't think I do," he said, but he shook my hand and smiled in a friendly way.

Stahl glanced at me strangely. "Nick used to work for Dekker Ward until recently."

Kerton frowned.

"In the Emerging Markets Group," I added quickly. "We did meet once."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I do know many of the people over there, but I couldn't quite place you. Jumped ship, have you?"

"Actually, I walked the gangplank."

Kerton's cool blue eyes studied me for a moment, and then he turned back to Stahl. "Have a seat, gentlemen." There was a knock on the door and a butler-type man brought in coffee. "As you requested, I'm here alone. I haven't told anyone else in the firm about your visit, but I must admit I'm curious to know what it's about."

"OK, Mr., er..." Stahl hesitated, caught uncharacteristically flat-footed. "Andy OK?" he said.

Kerton smiled. "Andy's fine, Sid." I caught Dwight Godfrey stiffening a touch. I suspected Stahl preferred Sidney to Sid.

"OK, Andy. It's real simple. We'd like to make an offer for your company."

Kerton leaned back in his chair. "I'm flattered," he said, looking it. "But Dekker Ward is growing very

strongly, and we expect this growth to continue. I don't think we're too keen to sell at the moment."

"OK/' said Stahl, and waited.

"All right," Kerton said, a pleased smile on his face. "You've intrigued me. What price were you thinking of?"

"Ten million pounds."

Kerton snorted. "Ten million! That's absurd. I'm sure you've discovered we keep our results confidential, but out annual profits are substantially more than that. In fact, our monthly profits are several times that."

"Oh, we know," said Stahl, fixing Kerton with his brown eyes. "The thing is, we know you got a problem down there with your Emerging Market guys. But we don't know whether you know how big a problem

it IS.

This had caught Kerton's attention. "You're referring I take it to the deal we launched last month for Mexico?"

"That, and some other things."

"Well, the deal wasn't a success. It suffered from unfortunate timing. But when you dominate a market like we do, you have to take the rough with the smooth. I can assure you, we can handle it. Look, if you want to talk emerging markets, perhaps I ought to get hold of Ricardo Ross." He reached toward a telephone.

"No, don't do that, Andy," Stahl said. "There's more. Nick?"

"Well, sir, I understand that Ricardo has bought four billion dollars of Mexican bonds, and two billion of debt from other Latin American borrowers. As you know the market has fallen sharply in the last two weeks. My understanding is that Dekker's losses are more than one and a half billion dollars."

Kerton didn't respond at first. His expression

switched from polite attention to hostility. Of course he didn't know this. And he felt a fool for not knowing. He was cornered. He lashed out.

''Who the hell are you, anyway?" he said to me. ''We fired you, didn't we?"

"That's right, sir."

He turned back to Stahl. "I can't see how you can possibly listen to this man. He obviously bears a grudge. He's making it up."

"It kind of fits with what we've seen in the market, Andy," said Stahl. "I believe him."

"Well I don't. And I think vou should leave. There is no need for me to respond to such allegations."

Stahl stood up. "OK, Andy. We're going. But check out what Nick here is saying. And we'll be in touch to see if you change your mind. But do yourself a favor, OK? Don't tell Ross about our little talk. At least not till you know he isn't hiding anything from you."

Kerton showed us out of the building in icy silence.

Stahl called at lunchtime the next day. "Kerton wants to talk. He wants to come to our offices. Can you meet us at three?"

"I'll be there."

We met in a conference room: Kerton, Stahl, the two corporate financiers, and me. It was a much blander room than the one we had occupied at Dekker Ward, but there was a nice view of a giant iron phallus that looked as though it had been blown down in the wind. Kerton was there with someone he introduced as Giles Tilfourd from Tilfourd and Co., a corporate finance boutique. It was promising that he had his own independent adviser. It suggested he expected discussions to lead somewhere.

"OK, Andy," said Stahl. "Shoot."

Kerton did well. He kept his cool. Although he seemed thoughtful, he didn't look like a man who had just discovered that his shareholding, which he thought was worth several hundred million pounds, was now worth just five.

But it was.

'Terhaps you could go through the details of your offer again..."

Negotiations proceeded quickly. They have to in these situations. Any further deterioration in the market would make Dekker Ward worthless, worse than worthless. It would become a liability that even Bloom-field Weiss wouldn't be able to handle. Stahl left London, but Godfrey and Schwartz stayed, and kept me informed. Kerton was careful to keep Ricardo out of it. He sent a trio of his own people down to Canary Wharf under the guise of an internal audit. This apparently aroused some disquiet in Ricardo, but no suspicions. He was confident he could run rings around any internal auditors.

I bought The Wall Street Journal every day. Things seemed neither better nor worse in Mexico. It was unclear what would happen to the Pinnock Bill in Congress. It seemed to have become sidetracked somehow in a negotiation over which military bases would be shut down in the continental United States.

It was difficult to focus on my thesis, but I did my best. Sitting in my room, my mind kept drifting back to the deal. It was exhilarating. I spent many hours imagining the look on Ricardo's face when he heard that Dekker had been sold from underneath him. To Bloom-field Weiss of all people! Surely even he wouldn't be able to keep his cool. He and Eduardo probably had plenty of cash stashed away for a rainy day, but this

would hurt Ricardo much more than merely losing \ money. This would be a very public humiliation. A

statement that the powerful Dekker machine that was i

so feared by the market was, in reality, nothing but a |

pile of worthless paper. 1

I thought of Isabel, and smiled wryly. I was sure she would appreciate it. If she was still alive. The familiar,

chronic anxiety returned. I was still calling Luis every \

evening, and still hearing nothing. j

25

I called Stahl in New York. Despite his elevated status, he seemed to like to talk to me directly. It angered his sidekicks, who resented the access I had to him.

''How are we doing?" I asked.

"Great, Nick, great. I just got back from Geneva yesterday. I met with the directors of Chalmet. Boy, I put a rocket up their asses! They have no idea what's going on at Dekker. In fact, I don't think they know what their own Emerging Markets guys are up to. But they're scared. It's beginning to dawn on them that all this great new Latino business isn't as kosher as it might be. They didn't even know that Chalmet was using hundreds of millions of their clients' dough to fund Dekker!"

Stahl chuckled. "You should of seen their faces. It was like I'd dropped a whole cartload of shit right there on their pretty polished desks. Which I guess in a way you could say I had."

"So what are they going to do?" I asked.

"They want outta there, fast. They'll sell."

"Excellent. Does that mean we're there?"

"Just about. We're working to a deadline of June nineteen. There are still some numbers to be run, and

Kerton's got to get the SFA and the Stock Exchange to approve the transaction, but that shouldn't be a problem. And then we have a done deal."

The nineteenth of June. That was just over a week away!

"Great!"

Stahl chuckled. "Yeah. Nice deal, Nick."

"Does Ricardo know about it?"

"Nope. He has no idea." Another laugh like a rasping saw.

I had one important question I wanted to ask Stahl. "If you do take over Dekker, what will you do with the staff?"

"Well, the Ross brothers will have to go. But we'll keep most of the rest of them. That's what we're buying, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," I said, relieved.

"I gotta go, Nick." The phone went dead.

I stared at the receiver in triumph. Yes!

A few moments later, Jamie called. He wanted to see me for a drink that everung. Although I felt a little better knowing that Stahl had no intention of sacking him, I wanted to avoid seeing Jamie if at all possible. But he was insistent. So I met him in the Pembroke Arms at eight o'clock.

He was waiting for me at our usual table, his pint of bitter half-empty in front of him. I bought myself a pint and joined him. He looked angry.

He came straight out with it. "Have you spoken to Bloomfield Weiss?"

"What about?"

"About us? Dekker?"

I considered brazening it out. But a second's thought

made me realize that if I were to have a chance of keep i

ing Jamie's friendship through this, I would have to be i

honest now. j

I nodded. |

"Why?" \

I swallowed. "Ricardo deserved it." '

Jamie glowered at me." I can't believe you'd do this!"

"Look, Janue," 1 said, in as reasonable a tone of voice

as I could muster. "Dekker is in big trouble. It might \

well go bust. If Bloomfield Weiss takes it over, you'll i

keep your job." i

"That's not the point!" Jamie's voice was raised and a j

pair of drii\kers at the next table turned toward him. i

"We're a team! And like it or not, Nick, we're Ricardo's |

team. You would be breaking us up." \

Now I got angry. "You're sounding just like Ricardo! i

He's not some victim of the financial establishment, |

and neither are you. He's a very wealthy man, who's '

made money from screwing all those around him. In ;

eluding me!" j

We sat in angry silence for a moment.

"How did you find out?" I asked. i

"Nothing goes on in Kerton's office without Ricardo !

finding out about it. He heard a former employee had

tipped Bloomfield Weiss off about our Mexican posi |

tion. He guessed it was you. And he guessed it was me j

who told you about it."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to get you into 1

trouble." j

"Well, you bloody well have now! I told him it I couldn't be you. It must be Dave, or someone else. But I had to check."

He drained his glass. "I don't think we'll be seeing j any more of each other," he said, and left the pub. I sat alone, my beer barely touched.

I should have anticipated Jamie's reaction. He was a loyal Dekker man. I had always put this loyalty down to greed, or at least ambition—the ambition to make a fortune, which was almost the same thing. But it was more than that. Jamie was one of Ricardo's people. He was what I would have become if I had stayed there. Ri-cardo looked after his people well, and expected total loyalty. In Jamie's case he'd got it.