Sons of Fortune Read online

  “First thing tomorrow morning,” said Fletcher. “We’re only staying overnight.”

  “Then drop in on your way from the airport; I want a blow-by-blow account of why Al wanted to see you, and make sure you give him my regards, because he’s the best chairman the party’s had in years. And ask him if he got my letter.”

  “Your letter?” said Fletcher.

  “Just ask him,” said Harry.

  “I thought he looked a lot better,” said Fletcher as he and Annie drove to the airport.

  “I agree,” said Annie, “and they’ve told Martha that they may even let him go home next week if, and only if, he promises to take things easy.”

  “He’ll promise,” said Fletcher, “but just be thankful the election’s not for another ten months.”

  The shuttle to the capital took off fifteen minutes late, but Fletcher had allowed for that, so when they touched down, he felt confident they would still have enough time to check into the Willard Hotel, shower, and be in Georgetown by eight.

  Their cab pulled up outside the hotel at seven ten. The first thing Fletcher asked the porter was how long it would take to get to Georgetown.

  “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” he replied.

  “Then I’d like to book a cab for seven forty-five.”

  Annie somehow managed to shower and change into a cocktail dress, while Fletcher paced around the room looking at his watch every few moments. He opened the cab door for his wife at 7:51.

  “I need to get to 3038 N Street in,” he checked his watch, “nine minutes.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Annie, “if Jenny Brubaker is anything like me, she’ll be grateful if we’re a few minutes late.”

  The cabbie wove his way in and out of the evening traffic and managed to pull up outside the chairman’s house at two minutes past the hour. After all, he knew who would be paying the fare.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Fletcher,” Al Brubaker said as he opened the front door. “And it’s Annie, isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve met, but of course I know about your work for the party.”

  “The party?” said Annie.

  “Don’t you sit on the Hartford school board as well as the hospital committee?”

  “Yes, I do,” said Annie, “but I’ve always looked on that as working for the community.”

  “Just like your father,” said Al. “By the way, how is the old bruiser?”

  “We’ve just left him,” said Fletcher. “He was looking a lot better, and sends his best wishes. By the way, he wanted to know if you received his letter.”

  “Yes I did. He never gives up, does he?” added Brubaker with a smile. “Why don’t we go through to the library and I’ll fix you both a drink. Jenny should be down shortly.”

  “How’s your boy?”

  “He’s fine, thank you, Mr. Goldblatz. His absence turned out to be caused by an affair of the heart.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “A proper age to fall in love. Now, my son, do you have anything to confess?”

  “Yes, father, by this time next week I will be the chairman of the largest bank in the state.”

  “By this time next week, you might not even be the chief executive of one of the smaller banks in the state.”

  “What makes you think that?” asked Nat.

  “Because what might have turned out to be a brilliant coup could have backfired, leaving you overextended. Your brokers must have warned you that there is no chance of your laying your hands on fifty percent of Fairchild’s by Monday morning.”

  “It’s going to be a close-run thing,” said Nat, “and I still believe we can make it.”

  “Thank heavens neither of us is a Catholic, Mr. Cartwright, otherwise you would be blushing, and I would be recommending a penance of three Hail Marys. But fear not, I see redemption for both of us.”

  “Do I need redemption, father?”

  “We both do, which is wh…wh…why I asked to see you. This battle has done neither of us any favors and if it continues beyond Sunday, it will harm both the institutions we serve, and possibly even close yours.”

  Nat wanted to protest, but he knew that Goldblatz was right. “So what form does this redemption take?” he asked.

  “Well, I think I’ve come up with a better solution than three Hail Marys, which may cleanse us both of our sins and might even show us a little profit.”

  “I await your instructions, father.”

  “I’ve watched your career with interest over the years, my son. You’re very bright, extremely diligent and ferociously determined, but what I admire most about you is that you’re straight—however much one of my legal advisors would have me believe otherwise.”

  “I’m flattered, sir, but not overwhelmed.”

  “And neither should you be. I am a realist, and I think that if you don’t succeed this time, you might well try again in a couple of years, and go on trying until you do succeed. Am I right?”

  “You may well be, sir.”

  “You have been frank with me, so I shall respond in kind. In eighteen months’ time I will be sixty-five, when I wish to retire to the golf course. I would like to hand over to my successor a thriving institution, not an ailing patient continually returning to the hospital for more treatment. I believe you may be the solution to my problem.”

  “I thought I was the cause.”

  “All the more reason for us to try and pull off a coup that is both bold and imaginative.”

  “I thought that’s exactly what I was doing.”

  “And you still may, my son, but for political reasons I need the whole thing to be your idea, which means, Mr. Cartwright, that you’re going to have to trust me.”

  “It’s taken you forty years to build your reputation, Mr. Goldblatz. I can’t believe you’d be willing to trade it in just months before you’re due to retire.”

  “I too am flattered, young man, but, like you, not overwhelmed. Therefore might I suggest that it was you who requested this meeting to put forward your proposal that, rather than continue to fight each other, we should in fact work together.”

  “A partnership?” said Nat.

  “Call it what you will, Mr. Cartwright, but if our two banks were to merge, no one will have lost out, and more important, all our shareholders will benefit.”

  “And what terms are you suggesting that I should recommend to you, not to mention to my board?”

  “That the bank be called Fairchild-Russell, and that I remain chairman for the next eighteen months, while you are appointed my deputy.”

  “But what will happen to Tom and Julia Russell?”

  “Obviously they would both be offered a place on the board. If you become chairman in eighteen months’ time, it would be up to you to appoint your own deputy, although I think you might be wise to keep Wesley Jackson on as your chief executive. But as you invited him to join your board some years ago, I can’t believe you’d find that a setback.”

  “No, I wouldn’t, but that doesn’t solve the problem of stock allocation.”

  “You currently hold ten percent of Russell’s, as does your chairman. His wife, who incidentally I think should manage our combined property portfolios, did at one point possess as much as four percent of the stock. But I suspect that it has been her shares that you have been releasing onto the open market for the past few days.”

  “You could be right, Mr. Goldblatz.”

  “In turnover and profits Fairchild’s is rou…rou…roughly five times the size of Russell’s, so I would suggest that when you put forward your proposal, you and Mr. Russell ask for four percent and settle for three. In the case of Mrs. Russell, I would have thought one percent would be appropriate. All three of you will of course retain your present salaries and benefits.”

  “And my staff?”

  “The status quo should remain for the first eighteen months. After that, the decision will be yours.”

  “And you want me to approa