Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  “Yes, he’s on their state central committee, and if he becomes their candidate, it could turn out to be a very dirty campaign. Elliot’s a bare-knuckle boxer who scores most of his points between rounds.”

  “In which case he may turn out to be as much of a liability as an asset.”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing, he’s a hell of a street-fighter and doesn’t like losing.”

  “That’s exactly what they say about you,” said Al with a smile. “Anyone else?”

  “Two or three other names are being bandied about, but so far nobody’s come forward. Let’s face it, few people had even heard of Carter until New Hampshire.”

  “And what about this man,” said Al, holding up the cover of Banker’s Weekly.

  Fletcher stared at the headline NEXT GOVERNOR OF CONNECTICUT? “But if you read the article, Al, you’ll see he’s strongly tipped to become the next chairman of Fairchild’s if the two banks can agree on terms. I glanced through the piece on the plane.”

  Al flicked through the pages. “You obviously didn’t get as far as the last paragraph,” he said, and read aloud, “Although it’s asssumed when Murray Goldblatz retires he would be succeeded by Cartwright, this position could just as easily be filled by his close friend, Tom Russell, should the CEO of Russell’s decide to allow his name to be put forward as the Republican candidate for governor.”

  Once he and Annie had returned to their hotel and gone to bed, Fletcher couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t just because the bed was more comfortable and the pillows softer than he was used to. Al needed to know his decision by the end of the month, as he was keen to get the party up and running behind their candidate.

  Annie woke just after seven. “Did you have a good night’s sleep, darling?” she asked.

  “I hardly slept a wink.”

  “I slept like a log, but then I didn’t have to worry about whether you should run for governor.”

  “Why not?” asked Fletcher.

  “Because I think you should go for it, and can’t imagine why you would have any reservations.”

  “First, I need a long session with Harry, because one thing’s for sure, he’ll already have given the idea a lot of thought.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Annie. “I think you’ll find he’s more preoccupied with Lucy for class president.”

  “Well, perhaps I’ll be able to grab a moment of his undivided attention to discuss the governorship of Connecticut.” Fletcher leaped out of bed. “Would you mind if we skipped breakfast and caught an early flight? I want to have a word with Harry before going on to the Senate.”

  Fletcher barely spoke on the journey back to Hartford, as he read and reread the article in Banker’s Weekly on Nat Cartwright, the possible new deputy-chairman of Fairchild’s or the next governor of Connecticut. Once again, he was struck by how much they had in common.

  “What are you going to ask Dad?” said Annie as their plane circled Bradley Field.

  “For a start, am I too young?”

  “But as Al pointed out, there is already one governor younger than you, and two about the same age.”

  “Second, how does he rate my chances?”

  “He wouldn’t be willing to answer that until he knows who your opponent is.”

  “And third, am I capable of doing the job?”

  “I know what his answer will be to that question, because I’ve already discussed it with him.”

  “Thank God we didn’t take this long to land when we flew in to Washington last night,” said Fletcher as they circled the airport for a third time.

  “Will you still stop by and see Dad before you go to the Capitol?” asked Annie. “He’s bound to be sitting up in bed waiting to hear your news.”

  “I always intended to make Harry my first stop,” said Fletcher as he drove his car out of the airport and onto the highway.

  It was a bright autumnal morning when Senator Davenport arrived back in town. He decided to drive up the hill and past the Capitol before cutting across to the hospital.

  As they came over the brow of the hill, Annie stared out of the car window, and began weeping uncontrollably. Fletcher pulled over to the hard shoulder. He took his wife in his arms, as he looked over her shoulder at the Capitol building.

  The United States flag was flying at half mast.

  41

  MR. GOLDBLATZ ROSE from his place at the center of the table and glanced down at his prepared statement. On his right sat Nat Cartwright, and on his left, Tom Russell. The rest of the board was seated in the row behind him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, it is my great pleasure to announce the merger of Fairchild’s and Russell’s, creating a new bank which will be known as Fairchild Russell. I shall remain as chairman, Mr. Nat Cartwright will be my deputy chairman, and Tom and Julia Russell will join the board. Mr. Wesley Jackson will continue as the new bank’s chief executive. I am able to confirm that Russell’s Bank has withdrawn its takeover bid, and a new ownership structure for the company will be announced in the near future. Both Mr. Cartwright and I will be happy to answer your questions.”

  Hands shot up all over the room. “Yes,” said the chairman, pointing to a woman in the second row, with whom he had prearranged the first question.

  “Is it still your intention to resign as chairman in eighteen months’ time?”

  “Yes, it is, and there are no prizes for guessing who I expect to succeed me.”

  He turned and looked at Nat as another journalist shouted, “How does Mr. Russell feel about that?”

  Mr. Goldblatz smiled, as it was a question they had all anticipated. He turned to his left and said, “Perhaps Mr. Russell should answer that question.”

  Tom smiled benevolently at the journalist. “I’m delighted by the coming together of the two leading banks in the state, and honored to have been invited to join the board of Fairchild Russell as a nonexecutive director.” He smiled. “I’m rather hoping Mr. Cartwright will consider reappointing me in eighteen months’ time.”

  “Word perfect,” whispered the chairman as Tom resumed his place.

  Nat quickly rose from the other side to deliver an equally wellscripted response, “I most certainly will be reappointing Mr. Russell, but not as a nonexecutive director.”

  Goldblatz smiled and added, “I am sure that will not come as a total surprise to anyone who follows these matters closely. Yes?” he said, pointing to another journalist.

  “Will there be any layoffs caused by this merger?”

  “No,” said Goldblatz. “It is our intention to retain all of Russell’s staff, but one of Mr. Cartwright’s immediate responsibilities will be to prepare for a complete restructuring of the bank during the next twelve months. Though I would like to add that Mrs. Julia Russell has already been appointed to head up our new combined property division. We at Fairchild’s have watched with admiration her handling of the Cedar Wood project.”

  “Can I ask why your legal counsel, Ralph Elliot, is not present today?” said a voice from the back of the room.

  Another question Goldblatz had anticipated, even though he couldn’t quite see where it had come from. “Mr. Elliot has been in Washington, D.C. Last night he dined with President Bush at the White House, otherwise he would have been with us this morning. Next question?” Goldblatz made no reference to the “frank exchange of views” he’d had with Elliot on the phone in the early hours of the morning.

  “I spoke to Mr. Elliot earlier today,” said the same journalist, “and I wonder if you would care to comment on the press statement he has just released?”

  Nat froze as Goldblatz rose more slowly. “I’d be happy to comment if I knew what he’d said.”

  The journalist looked down at a single sheet of paper and read from it: “I am delighted that Mr. Goldblatz felt able to take my advice and bring the two banks together rather than continue a bruising and damaging battle from which no one would have profited.” Goldblatz smiled and nodded. “In