Kane and Abel Read online

  Abel was not surprised to hear that.

  ‘Mr Leroy has indicated that he has no objection to her selling the stock to a third party, as she feels that at her age she would like to have a little cash to spend. I thought I would apprise you of the situation, Mr Rosnovski, in case you know of someone who might wish to purchase my client’s shares.’

  ‘How much is Miss Leroy hoping to realize for her stock?’ asked Abel.

  ‘Oh, I believe she’d be willing to let it go for as little as sixty-five thousand dollars.’

  ‘Sixty-five thousand dollars is rather high for a stock that has never paid a dividend,’ said Abel. ‘And has no prospect of doing so for some years,’ he added.

  ‘Ah,’ said Curtis Fenton, ‘but you must remember that the value of the eleven hotels should also be taken into consideration.’

  ‘But control of the company would still remain in the hands of Mr Leroy, which makes Miss Leroy’s twenty-five per cent holding nothing but pieces of paper.’

  ‘Come, come, Mr Rosnovski, twenty-five per cent of eleven hotels would be a very valuable asset in return for a mere sixty-five thousand dollars.’

  ‘Not while Mr Leroy has overall control. Offer Miss Leroy forty thousand dollars, Mr Fenton, and I may be able to find you someone who is interested.’

  ‘You don’t think that person might consider going a little higher, do you?’ Mr Fenton’s eyebrow raised on the word higher.

  ‘Not a penny more, Mr Fenton.’

  The bank manager brought his fingertips delicately together, well aware of how much Abel had deposited with the bank.

  ‘In the circumstances, I can only ask Miss Leroy what her response would be to such an offer. I will contact you again as soon as she has instructed me.’

  After he left Curtis Fenton’s office, Abel hurried back to the hotel to double-check his personal holdings. His brokerage account stood at $33,112 and his personal checking account at $3,008. He found it difficult to concentrate on his daily responsibilities, wondering how Miss Leroy would react to his bid and daydreaming about what he would do if he held a 25 per cent interest in the Richmond Group.

  He thought for some time about informing Davis Leroy, fearful that the genial Texan might view him as a threat. But after a couple of days he decided the fairest thing would be to call his boss and tell him exactly what he had in mind.

  ‘I want you to know why I am doing this, Davis. I believe the Richmond Group has a great future, and you can be sure that I’ll work even harder if I know my own money is involved.’ He paused. ‘But if you want to take up that twenty-five per cent yourself, I shall naturally withdraw my bid.’

  To his surprise, the escape ladder was not grasped.

  ‘Well, see here, Abel, if you have that much confidence in the group, go ahead, son, and buy Amy out. I’d be proud to have you for a partner. You’ve earned it. By the way, I’ll be up next week for the Reds-Cubs game. Care to join me?’

  ‘Sure would,’ said Abel. ‘And thank you, Davis - you’ll never have cause to regret your decision.’

  ‘I’m sure I won’t, partner.’

  Abel returned to the bank a week later. This time it was he who asked to see the manager. Once again he sat in the green leather button chair and waited impatiently for Curtis Fenton to speak.

  ‘I am surprised to find,’ began Fenton, not looking at all surprised, ‘that Miss Leroy will accept a bid of forty thousand dollars for her twenty-five per cent holding in the Richmond Group. As I have now secured her agreement, I must ask if you are in a position to disclose your buyer.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Abel confidently. ‘I will be the principal.’

  ‘I see, Mr Rosnovski’ - again not showing any surprise. ‘May I ask how you propose to pay the forty thousand dollars?’

  ‘I shall liquidate my stock holdings and release any spare cash in my personal account, which will leave a shortfall of about four thousand dollars. I hope the bank will be willing to loan me that sum, since you are so confident that the Richmond Group stock is undervalued. In any case, four thousand dollars probably represents nothing more than the bank’s commission on the deal.’

  Curtis Fenton blinked, and tried not to frown. Gentlemen did not usually make that sort of comment in his office; it stung all the more because Abel had the sum exactly right. ‘Will you give me a little time to consider your proposal, Mr Rosnovski?’

  ‘If you wait long enough, I won’t need a loan,’ said Abel. ‘The way the market’s climbing at the moment, my other investments will soon be worth the full forty thousand.’

  Abel had to wait a further week before he was informed that Continental Trust was willing to back him. He immediately cleared both his accounts, and borrowed a little under $4,000 to make up the shortfall on the forty thousand.

  Within six months he had paid off the $4,000 loan by careful buying and selling of stock between March and August 1929, some of the most bullish days the stock market had ever experienced. By September 1929 both his accounts were back in credit, and he even had enough spare cash to buy a new Buick to go with his 25 per cent of the Richmond Group. His holding in Davis Leroy’s empire also gave him the confidence to pursue his daughter and the other 75 per cent.

  A week later, he invited Melanie to a Mozart concert at the Chicago Symphony Hall. Donning his latest suit, which reminded him that he was gaining a little weight, and wearing his first silk tie, he felt confident as he glanced in the mirror that the evening would be a success. After the concert, Abel avoided the Richmond, excellent though its food had become, and escorted Melanie to the Loop for dinner. He was particularly careful to allow her to talk about subjects she felt at ease with: her upcoming degree, and her father, although she also seemed fascinated by the recent success of the hotel. Emboldened, he asked her to join him in his room for a drink. It was the first time she had seen it, and she appeared surprised by how many books were on the shelves, and how many pictures hung on the walls.

  Abel poured the Coca-Cola she requested, dropped two cubes of ice into it and felt a new confidence from the smile that rewarded him when he handed her the glass. He couldn’t help staring briefly at her slim, crossed legs. He poured himself a bourbon and put on the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s performance of Eine kleine Nachtmusik.

  Abel sat down beside her and reflectively swirled the drink in his glass. ‘For many years I heard no music. When I did, Mozart spoke to my heart as no other composer has done.’

  ‘How very European you sound sometimes, Abel.’ She pulled free the edge of her silk dress, which Abel was sitting on. ‘Who would have thought a hotel manager would have even heard of Mozart?’

  ‘One of my ancestors, the second Baron Rosnovski,’ said Abel, ‘once met the maestro, and became a close friend of the Mozart family, so I have always felt he was part of my life.’

  Melanie’s smile was unfathomable. Abel leaned sideways and kissed her cheek below the ear, where her fair curls were drawn back from her face. ‘Frederick Stock captured the mood of the third movement to perfection, don’t you think?’ he said.

  Abel tried a second kiss. This time she turned her face towards him and allowed herself to be kissed on the lips. Then she drew away.

  ‘I think I ought to be getting back to the university.’

  ‘But you’ve only just arrived,’ said Abel.

  ‘Yes, I know, but I have to be up in time for an early morning class.’

  Abel kissed her again. She fell back on the couch as he tried to move his hand onto her breast. She broke away quickly.

  ‘I must be going, Abel,’ she insisted.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ he said, ‘you don’t have to go yet.’ Once again he pulled her towards him.

  This time she pushed him away more firmly. ‘Abel, what do you think you’re doing? Just because you take me to a concert and buy me an occasional meal doesn’t mean you have the right to maul me.’

  ‘But we’ve been going out for months,’ said Abel. ‘I didn’t think you’d m