The Prodigal Daughter Read online

  “Tell the truth. Remember, banking is based on trust, and if they know you’re always being straight with them, they’ll stand by you when you are going through hard times.”

  “You still haven’t answered the question.”

  “You simply say, ‘My father and I quarreled over a family matter and now I want to succeed in my own right.’”

  “Do you think that will work?”

  “I don’t know, but if it does, at least you’ll have started with all your cards on the table. Let’s go back over it again.”

  “Must we?”

  “Yes. No one owes you money, Jessie.”

  “I would like to borrow thirty-four thousand dollars.”

  “What do you need the money for?”

  “I would like to take a—”

  “Supper’s ready,” roared Bella.

  “Rescued,” said Florentyna.

  “Only until after we’ve eaten. How many banks are you seeing on Monday?”

  “Three. Bank of California, Wells Fargo and Crocker. Why don’t I pop along to the Bank of America and you can simply pass the thirty-four thousand over the counter?”

  “Because there are no coed prisons in America.”

  Claude put his head around the door. “Hurry up, you two, or there won’t be any left.”

  George spent as much time following up leads on Florentyna as he did being managing director of the Baron Group. He was determined to come up with some concrete results before Abel returned from Europe.

  George had a little more success in one quarter than Abel. Zaphia was pleased to inform him that she was making regular trips to the Coast to see the happily married couple. It took George only one phone call to a travel agent in Chicago to discover that those trips had been to San Francisco. Within twenty-four hours he had Florentyna’s address and phone number. On one occasion George even managed a brief conversation with his goddaughter, but she was fairly reticent with him.

  Henry Osborne made a pretext at wanting to help, but it soon became obvious that he only wished to know what was going on in Abel’s life. He even tried to press George into lending him some more money.

  “You’ll have to wait until Abel returns,” George told him sharply.

  “I am not sure I can last that long.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry, but I don’t have the authority to sanction personal loans.”

  “Not even to a board member? You may live to regret that decision, George. After all, I know a lot more about how the Group got started than you do, and I am sure there are others who would be willing to pay me well for such information.”

  George always arrived at Idlewild Airport thirty minutes early whenever Abel was returning from Europe. He knew the Baron, like any newly appointed director, would be impatient to learn of any developments within the Group. But this time he felt certain that Abel’s opening question would be on a different subject.

  As always, Abel was one of the first through Customs and once he and George were seated in the back of the company Cadillac, he wasted no time on small talk.

  “What news?” he demanded, only too aware that George would know to what he was referring.

  “Some good, some bad,” said George as he pressed a button by the side window. Abel watched a sheet of glass glide up between the driver and the passenger section of the car. He tapped his finger on the side pane impatiently as he waited. “Florentyna continues to be in touch with her mother. She’s living in a small house in San Francisco with some old friends from Radcliffe days.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes.”

  Abel didn’t speak for some moments, as if taking in the finality of the statement.

  “And the Kane boy?” he asked.

  “He’s found a job in a bank. It seems a lot of people turned him down because word got around that he didn’t complete Harvard Business School and his father wouldn’t supply a reference. Not many people were willing to employ him if as a consequence they antagonized William Kane. He was finally hired as a junior teller with the Bank of America, at a salary way below what he might have expected with his qualifications.”

  “And Florentyna?”

  “She’s working as the assistant manager in a fashion shop called ‘Wayout Columbus’ near Golden Gate Park. She’s also been trying to borrow money from several banks.”

  “Why?” said Abel, sounding worried. “Is she in any sort of trouble?”

  “No, she’s looking for capital to open her own shop.”

  “How much is she hoping to raise?”

  “She needs thirty-four thousand dollars for the lease on a small building that’s become vacant on Nob Hill.”

  Abel considered this piece of news for a moment. “See that she gets the money. Make it look as if the transaction is an ordinary bank loan and be sure that it’s not traceable back to me.” He started tapping on the window again. “This must always remain between the two of us, George.”

  “Anything you say, Abel.”

  “And keep me informed of every move she makes, however trivial.”

  “What about Richard Kane?”

  “I’m not interested in him,” said Abel. “Now, what’s the bad news?”

  “Trouble with Henry Osborne again. It seems he owes money elsewhere and I’m fairly certain his only source of income is you. He’s still making threats—about revealing that you condoned bribes in the early days when you had taken over the Group. Says he’s kept all the papers from the first day he met you, when he claims he fixed an extra payment after the fire at the old Richmond in Chicago. He’s telling everyone that he now has a file on you three inches thick.”

  “I’ll deal with Henry in the morning,” said Abel.

  Abel was fully up to date on the Group’s activities when Henry arrived for his private meeting. Abel looked up at him: the heavy drinking and the debts were beginning to take their toll. For the first time, Abel thought Henry looked older than his years.

  “I need a little money to get me through a tricky period,” said Henry even before they had shaken hands. “Been a bit unlucky.”

  “Again, Henry? You should know better at your age. How much do you need this time?”

  “Ten thousand would see me through,” said Henry.

  “Ten thousand,” said Abel, spitting out the words. “What do you think I am, a gold mine? It was only five thousand last time.”

  “Inflation,” said Henry, trying to laugh.

  “This is the last time, do you understand me?” said Abel as he took out his checkbook. “Come begging once more and I’ll remove you from the board and turn you out without a penny.”

  “You’re a real friend, Abel. I swear I’ll never come back again—I promise you that. Never again.” Abel watched Henry take a cigar from the humidor on the table in front of him and light it. George hadn’t done that in twenty years. “Thanks, Abel. You’ll never regret your decision.”

  Henry sauntered out of the office drawing on the cigar. Abel waited for the door to be closed, then buzzed for George. He appeared moments later.

  “What happened?”

  “I gave in for the last time,” said Abel. “I don’t know why—it cost me ten thousand.”

  “Ten thousand?” said George, sighing. “You can be sure he’ll be back again. I’d be willing to put money on that.”

  “He’d better not,” said Abel, “because I’m through with him. Whatever he’s done for me in the past it’s now quits. Anything new about my girl?”

  “I’ve set up a facility for Florentyna with the Crocker National Bank of San Francisco,” said George. “She has an appointment next Monday with the loan officer. The agreement will appear to her as one of the bank’s ordinary loan transactions, with no special favors. In fact, they’re charging her half a percent more than usual so there can be no reason for her to be suspicious. What she doesn’t know is that the money is covered by your guarantee.”

  “Thanks, George, that’s perfect. I’ll bet you ten doll