Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  Nat rented a car so that they could move from village to village as and when it suited them. Once they’d driven a few miles out of the capital, the first thing that struck them both was how quickly the way of life changed. By the time they had traveled a hundred miles, they had also traveled back a hundred years. The modern skyscrapers were quickly replaced by little wooden shacks, and the hustle and bustle by a slower, more considered pace.

  Although Su Ling’s mother had rarely talked about her upbringing in Korea, Su Ling knew the village where she had been born, and her family name. She also knew that two of her uncles had been killed in the war, so that when they arrived in Kaping with its population of 7,303—according to the guide book—she wasn’t all that hopeful of being able to find anyone who would remember her mother.

  Su Ling Cartwright began her quest at the town hall, where a register was kept of all the local citizens. It didn’t help that, of the 7,000 inhabitants, over a thousand shared Su Ling’s mother’s maiden name of Peng. However, the lady at reception also exhibited that name on the plaque on her desk. She told Su Ling that her great-aunt, who was now over ninety, claimed to know every branch of the family, and if she would like to meet her, that could be arranged. Su Ling nodded her agreement, and was asked to return later that day.

  She called back in the afternoon, to be told that Ku Sei Peng would be happy to take tea with her the following day. The receptionist apologized before politely explaining that Su Ling’s American husband would not be welcome.

  Su Ling returned to their little hotel the following night, bearing a piece of paper and a happy smile. “We’ve traveled all this way out here, only to be told to go back to Seoul,” she said.

  “How come?” asked Nat.

  “It’s simple. Ku Sei Peng remembers my mother leaving the village to seek work in the capital, but she never returned. But her younger sister, Kai Pai Peng, still lives in Seoul and Ku Sei has given me her last known address.”

  “So it’s back to the capital,” said Nat, who phoned down to reception to warn them they would be checking out immediately. They arrived back in Seoul just before midnight.

  “I think it might be wise if I were to visit her on my own,” said Su Ling over breakfast the following morning, “as she may not be willing to say a great deal once she discovers I’m married to an American.”

  “Suits me,” said Nat. “I was hoping to visit the market on the other side of the city as I’m searching for something in particular.”

  “What?” asked Su Ling,

  “Wait and see,” teased Nat.

  Nat took a taxi to the Kiray district, and spent the day roaming around one of the biggest open markets in the world—row upon row of laden stalls crammed with everything from Rolex watches to cultured pearls, from Gucci bags to Chanel perfume, from Cartier bracelets to Tiffany hearts. He avoided the cries of “Over here, American, please to look at my goods, much cheaper,” as he could never be sure what, if anything, was the real thing.

  By the time he arrived back at the hotel that evening, Nat was exhausted and laden down with six shopping bags, mostly full of presents for his wife. He took the elevator to the third floor, and as he pushed open the door to their room, he hoped to find that Su Ling had returned from visiting her great aunt. As he closed the door, he thought he heard sobbing. He stood still. The unmistakable sound was coming from the bedroom.

  Nat dropped the bags on the floor, walked across the room and pushed open the bedroom door. Su Ling was curled up on the bed, like an unsprung coil, weeping. He slipped off his shoes and jacket and climbed onto the bed beside her and took her in his arms.

  “What is it, little flower?” he said, caressing her gently.

  She didn’t reply. Nat held her close, aware that she would tell him in her own time.

  When it grew dark and the neon streetlights began to flicker on, Nat drew the curtains. He then sat beside her and took her hand.

  “I will always love you,” said Su Ling, not looking directly at him.

  “And I’ll always love you,” said Nat, taking her back into his arms.

  “Do you remember the night of our marriage, we agreed on no secrets, so I must now tell you what I discovered this afternoon.”

  Nat had never seen a face so sad. “Nothing you found out could make me love you less,” he said, trying to reassure her.

  Su Ling pulled her husband toward her while lowering her head on to his chest, as if she didn’t want their eyes to meet. “I kept my appointment with my great aunt this morning,” she began. “She remembered my mother well, and explained to me why she had left the village to join her in Seoul.” As she clung on to Nat, Su Ling repeated everything Kai Pai had told her. When she had finished her story, she eased away and looked up at her husband for the first time.

  “Can you still love me now you know the truth?” she asked.

  “I didn’t believe it was possible to love you any more, and I can only imagine what courage it must have taken to share this news with me.” He paused. “It will only strengthen a bond that now no one will ever be able to break.”

  “I don’t think it would be wise for me to go with you,” said Annie.

  “But you’re my lucky mascot, and …”

  “ … and Dr. Redpath says it wouldn’t be wise.” Fletcher reluctantly accepted that he would have to make the journey to New York alone. Annie was in her seventh month of pregnancy, and although there had been no complications, he never argued with the doctor.

  Fletcher had been delighted to be invited back for a second interview with Alexander Dupont & Bell, and wondered how many of the other candidates had been short-listed. He had a feeling Karl Abrahams knew, though the professor wasn’t sharing any confidences.

  When the train pulled into Central Station, Fletcher took a taxi to 54th Street, arriving outside the vast entrance lobby twenty minutes early. He had been told that on one occasion a candidate had arrived three minutes late, so they didn’t bother to interview him.

  He took the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor and was directed by the receptionist to a spacious room that was almost as smart as the senior partner’s office. Fletcher sat alone and wondered if that was a good sign, until a second candidate joined him a few minutes before nine. He smiled at Fletcher.

  “Logan Fitzgerald,” he said, his hand outstretched. “I heard you address the freshman debate at Yale. Your speech on Vietnam was brilliant, although I didn’t agree with a word you said.”

  “You were at Yale?”

  “No, I was visiting my brother. I went to Princeton, and I guess we both know why we’re here.”

  “How many others are there, do you imagine?” asked Fletcher.

  “Looking at the clock, I would suggest we’re the last two. So all I can say is good luck.”

  “I am sure you mean that sincerely,” said Fletcher with a grin.

  The door opened and a woman who Fletcher remembered as Mr. Alexander’s secretary addressed them. “Gentlemen, if you’ll come this way,” she said.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Townsend,” said Fletcher, whose father had once told him never to forget a secretary’s name—after all, they spend more time with the boss than his wife ever does. The two candidates followed her out of the room, and Fletcher wondered if Logan could possibly be as nervous as he was. On either side of the long carpeted corridor the names of the partners were lettered in gold beside each oak-paneled door they passed. William Alexander’s was the last before the conference room.

  Mrs. Townsend knocked gently on the door, opened it and stood to one side as twenty-five men and three women rose from their places and began to applaud.

  “Please be seated,” said Bill Alexander, once the applause had died down. “May I be the first to congratulate you both on being offered the opportunity to join Alexander Dupont and Bell, but be warned, the next time you’ll hear such approbation from your colleagues will be when you’re invited to become a partner, and that won’t be for at least seven years. Dur